


Lilly's Adventures in Wonderland

by Akoia, Nana (Akoia)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Mages and Templars, Magic, Modern Girl in Thedas, Spirits, Teenage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), War, Young Inquisitor (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:33:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akoia/pseuds/Akoia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akoia/pseuds/Nana
Summary: There's no white rabbits or talking doors in this world, but still Lilly finds herself falling down the rabbit hole. With a strange Mark on her hand meant to save the world, and little memory of where she came from, she must navigate the world with the help of her new companions. Crazed Chantry sisters, ancient darkspawn, and cryptic elves, oh my.





	1. Act I: The Rabbit Hole

Cassandra didn’t want to believe that someone so young was capable of something like this.  So disgustingly, unimaginably evil.  The girl couldn’t have even been older than fourteen or fifteen.  But despite her young age, Cassandra knew that evil lurked in all shapes and sizes,.  But still... When she’d been brought in by the soldiers, Cassandra had been taken aback by the young, round face that was covered by dirt and a fitful sleep.

The Apostate, Solas, had said that the mark she wore was slowly starting to eat away at her life. He said that she didn't have much time left before the Mark consumed her.  He'd also said that the Mark might be able to seal the Breach that hung above their heads.  He _also_ said that she was a mage and that the Mark was causing strange fluctuations to her magic.  Cassandra had worried initially that perhaps she was more susceptible to possession while she slept.  But Solas had been quick to assure her that he could place wards around her to prevent that.  It did little to lessen her nerves, but she allowed him to do it anyways.  She also made sure that the guards were extremely vigilant.  She wanted them to count each breath she took, so that if something was wrong, they could deal with it swiftly. 

There were other things about the girl that confused Cassandra. Her dark brown hair was matted with sweat, and dust, and blood, but it was obvious that underneath all of that she took very good care of it. There were bruises all over her face and neck, as well as her arms, indicating that her journey through the fade-as Solas insisted- had been a rough one, but still her skin was well maintained and healthy, barring the blemishes that appeared on all young men and women's faces of that age. When prying her eyes open to see if she lived, Cassandra saw that her eyes were a dark shade of green. Her hands were soft, unblemished, and her nails were painted a light blue. This girl had obviously come from a rich background. Cassandra would have thought Orlesian, if not for the clothes she wore. She had been dressed in the strangest clothes that Cassandra had ever seen. A black jacket with a hood, made from the softest material that Cassandra had ever felt in her life. On the jacket, was a sewn on crest of a red three headed dragon, all with mouths open to devour someone whole. Her pants were black and made from a rough, but sturdy material that must have been good for work. Her shoes were made of a much thinner material and laced up with the brightest, most obnoxious, green laces Cassandra had ever seen in her life. This girl was obviously a foreigner.    

But still, as young and strange as she was, she was the only suspect in the murder of the Divine. That tiny, frail looking, young girl was the only survivor of the Conclave. That thought alone sent the boiling anger raging through her blood once more. She clenched her hands into fists, and tried to push the thoughts from her mind while she prayed. Not for the first time in the past few days, Cassandra prayed and prayed for the Maker to grant her strength and wisdom in dealing with the girl. She bowed her head, trying to look humble, even when the emotions swirled in her stomach like a never ending hurricane. " _Blessed are they who stand before_ _The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._ _Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written."_

She didn’t look up for hours from on her knees beside her bed, quietly singing the Chant, in the hopes that maybe someone would answer her. Not until a guard came running into her tent, gasping for breath. “Lady Seeker,” the woman said, throwing her fist over her heart. “The Prisoner is awake.”

Cassandra stood, accidentally knocking a tankard of ale off of her desk. She cursed quietly before focusing all of her attention onto the guard. "Has Leliana been informed?" She asked. The Nightingale had insisted that she take part in the girl's interrogation. 

"Yes, Lady Seeker," the woman said. "She says she will meet you in the dungeons of the Chantry within the next twenty minutes. The Mark is flaring up. That's what woke her." 

"Where is the Fade expert?" Cassandra demanded. 

"He went with Tethras to the Rift, to see if he could close it," she said. 

"Fantastic," Cassandra snarled.  pushing past the guard and back out into the snow.  There were still people on the steps, mourning for the fallen that they knew were gone.  It had been four days, and only one survivor had been found.  The rest, charred remains of fear and pain, twisted in their final moments.  She shook herself from those thoughts, continuing on towards the Chantry.  She saw Leliana waiting, her arms folded across her chest, leaning casually against the wall.  But Cassandra knew the woman well enough to know, that she was just as lost as everyone else was.

"Cassandra," Leliana greeted, but the Seeker pushed right past her and headed towards the door.  "Perhaps it would be best if we-"

Cassandra kicked the door open, all thoughts of how young the girl was, leaving her mind when the wood smacked against the stone walls.  She looked into the dungeon and saw that the strange girl had pushed herself to sitting on her knees.  Her green eyes snapped over to Cassandra, wide with pain, confusion, and a fair amount of fear.  Cassandra stalked into the room and grabbed the girl by the front of her strange jacket and lifted her up, so they were almost nose to nose.  “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now," she growled.  "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you!” She pushed the girl away, and watched as she fell back, almost tumbling over.

"I..." The girl looked between her, and Leliana, who had started circling around like a bird of prey.  "I don't know what you're talking about?  Who's dead?" She asked. Her voice was soft, carrying the slight squeak of someone whose voice had yet to fully develop.

Cassandra grabbed her left arm, and held it up, while the Mark sparked and fizzled an acid green, and the girl gasped in horror, the air catching in her throat.  "Explain this."

The girl's eyelids fluttered, blinking back tears.  Cassandra was sure that the Mark must hurt.  "I...I can't," she stuttered out which only served to make Cassandra swell with anger.

"What do you mean you can't!" She demanded harshly. 

"I don’t know what that is or how it got there!" The girl insisted, her voice rising with both panic and desperation. 

"You're lying!" Cassandra yelled, raising her fist and striking the girl across the face, sending her tumbling onto the cold stone ground. When she didn't immediately get back up, Cassandra grabbed her by the hood of her jacket and lifted her back up, getting ready for another strike. Her arm was grabbed before she could. She looked behind her and saw Leliana, looking at her with only _slight_ disapproval. 

"We need her, Cassandra," Leliana reminded her, her voice cold but gentle. 

The girl was holding her jaw with her unmarked hand, her manacles loosely encircling her wrists. If she wanted, Cassandra was sure the girl would be able to wriggle her way out of them. "Please," she said, pulling her hand away and revealing that she'd bitten open her bottom lip. "I don't know what you're accusing me of, but whatever it is, I didn't do it." 

Leliana hummed, and stepped in front of Cassandra, kneeling down and gently cupping the girl's face. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?” She asked. 

The girl shook her head, drawing away from Leliana. "I was running. Things were chasing me. Then...a woman?" 

"A woman?" Leliana repeated, interest sparking in her eyes. 

"Yes," the girl continued. "She reached her hand out to me and then...that's all I remember." She turned her head down, looking at her hands that were now placed in her lap. "Honest." 

Leliana and Cassandra shared a moment of non-verbal communication, where Cassandra nodded and grabbed the girl by the arm, a bit gentler, and pulled her up to her feet. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the Rift," she said. Leliana nodded and made a swift exit, closing the door behind her. Cassandra reached to her belt and pulled out the keys, and unlocked the chains, letting them fall to the ground. She pulled out a length of rope and quickly tied the small wrists together, before the girl could ask any questions. 

As they walked from the dungeon, the girl kept her head low. The many faces of anger and hate turned toward her, the only thing she could see from the people. "What did happen?" She asked when they were in the main hall. 

Cassandra turned, a harsh reply already at the tip of her tongue, until she took in the broken and beaten appearance of the girl. Cassandra sighed deeply and shook her head. "It will be easier to show you." Cassandra brought the girl out the door and pulled her to a stop, pointing up at the sky, where the green tare hung above them. “We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.”

"An explosion can't do that," the girl said, looking up at the torn sky with trembling hands.  

“This one did. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world.” Cassandra opened her mouth again, but when the Breach expanded again, the Mark flared and the girl screamed in alarm, her hand tensing as she fell to the snow. Tears poured from her eyes, and she was obviously trying to stifle them, but was having very little success. Cassandra knelt down in front of her, and rested her gloved hands against her shoulders. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn’t much time.“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn’t much time.”

The girl looked at her, her fear momentarily giving way to curiosity. “You say it  _may_  be the key. To doing what, exactly?” She asked.

“Closing the Breach. Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours," Cassandra pressed her firmly. She helped the girl to her feet. 

The girl looked up at the Breach, and then back to her hand, her lips pressing together to keep from trembling. "I...understand," she said, her voice carrying into Cassandra's ears quietly. 

"Then...?" 

"Yes," the girl said with a nod. "If I can stop the Breach, I will." 

Cassandra nodded, and looped her arm through the girl's elbow, pulling her through Haven. The people glared hatefully, all turning to stare at the girl, who was trying to make herself seem as small as possible under their anger. She stuck close to Cassandra, keeping her eyes low. “They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead." When they were standing outside the gates of Haven, Cassandra grabbed the girl's hands and cut the rope with a quick twist of a dagger. “We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the breach is sealed. There will be a trial. I can promise no more.” 

The girl nodded meekly and rubbed her wrists. "Where are we going?" She asked, when they started their walk. 

Cassandra turned around. “Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.”

* * *

This wasn't how she was expecting to spend her day. Lilly followed the scary woman closely as they crossed over a bridge and into a valley. She noticed that the woman had one hand tightly gripping the hilt of her sword, looking ready to strike out at just about anyone. She didn't want to talk, while they climbed up a hill. As they walked, Lilly noticed that she was breathless. Maybe she wasn't in the  _best_ shape. She saw the scary woman, Cassandra, turn to look at her several times. 

There were no problems until they got to almost the top of the hill. The Breach gave a massive shudder, which was all the warning Lilly got before the Mark on her hand spark and she was sent spilling to the ground when the burning pain radiated up her arm. She screamed, holding it to her chest, until the pain faded away. She was aware of Cassandra grabbing her shoulders tightly when the pain finally subsided. She was breathing heavily, and slowly pushed herself up to her feet. 

“The pulses are coming faster now," Cassandra said, and Lilly felt annoyance flash though her mind. Like she  _hadn't_ noticed that. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.” 

This was insane. Things like this didn't just _happen_. At first, maybe, she considered that these were all just really enthusiastic LARPers, but when she felt the Mark and saw the Breach, that thought was quickly gone from her mind. This was  _actually_ happening to her. And it sucked. The how, didn't really matter to her just then. She was more focused on the green fire in her body that was trying to kill her. She could worry about all that other stuff latter, if she survived. 

How did she survive? Cassandra had said that everyone who had been attending the 'Conclave' had died. "How did I survive the blast?" Lilly asked before she could stop herself. 

Cassandra paused for a second. “They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.”

"Oh," Lilly said and they continued forward. A few soldiers ran past them, screaming about the end of the world. Wild panic alight in their eyes as they ran from the danger that Lilly was willingly walking towards. She wanted to join them. 

They stepped foot onto another bridge before a high pitched whistling caught Lilly's attention and she had enough time to gasp before a meteorite crashed into the stone of the bridge. It sent her flying and onto a frozen river bank. She landed awkwardly on her side, but she was optimistic that she hadn't broken anything. She had just about  _had it_ with other worldly forces sending her down to her knees.

There was another hiss, and another meteor that crashed into the ice water. There was a sick hissing that came from a black, bubbling puddle that had formed on the ice. "Demons!" Cassandra screamed when a monster sprouted from the ice, using its claws to pull itself from the either. It twisted its head around, and screeched, its razor sharp mouth unnaturally wide. "Stay behind me!" Cassandra order, launching into an attack at the demon. 

Lilly watched her in amazement, slowly pulling herself from the freezing ice. Her eyes were pulled down to a new bubbling black void. Her scream caught in her throat when a new demon clawed its way through. She was unarmed, and when she saw those knife-life claws aimed at her, she felt all her blood travel down quickly to her toes. She turned, intending to run, when she felt the claws take a swipe at her, slashing through her sweater, and deep into her back. She yelled in pain, dropping to her hands and knees. She looked to her left and caught sight of a large walking stick with a metal bulb on the top. 

She reached out and grabbed it, the adrenaline flowing through her blood. She turned, smacked the demon square in the face. It hissed at her and when she went for another strike, it grabbed the stick in its claws, and tried to pull it away from her. She grabbed it tighter in both hands, and tried pulling back, planting her feet into the slippery ice. She let out a scream of rage, and suddenly energy flowed from her body. 

It was something she hadn't noticed until she let it go. Something that had been coiled in her stomach from the day she was born. It flew from her body, sending sparks of purple electricity towards the demon, crackling around her hands, her legs, her arms, her head. From every pore of her body, the energy pushed out. When it was over, the tips of her fingers were numb. She looked at the demon and watched in morbid fascination as it turned to durst and then back into green energy, floating up towards the Breach. 

"It's over," she said, stepping away. 

She looked over, just as Cassandra killed her enemy. The warrior woman rounded on Lilly pointing her sword at her, anger in her eyes. "Drop your weapon  _now!"_ She ordered, and Lilly didn't even think to argue with her. Her fingers loosened and the walking stick fell to the ice. Lilly wrapped her hands around her midsection and took a few steps backwards. She suddenly felt light headed, and when she looked behind her, she found her blood, all over the ice. 

She blinked rapidly and fell forward, into Cassandra's arms, the woman sounding panicked while she called for Lilly to keep her eyes open. Lilly's vision swam and she felt Cassandra press something against her lips. A cool feeling flowed through her body and she could feel the wound on her back starting to piece itself back together. When she was able to focus again, she saw that Cassandra's armor and hands were covered in blood.  _Her_ blood. 

"You should keep your weapon," Cassandra said, letting out a deep breath. She helped Lilly stand back up, and caught her a second time when she almost fell backwards. “I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless. I should remember that you came here willingly." She picked up the walking staff and pressed it into Lilly's hands. "And take these potions. Maker knows when you'll need them again."   

Lilly leaned against the walking stick and let her eyes slide shut before pushing herself forward, following after Cassandra's much quicker steps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed!


	2. Act I: All In The Golden Afternoon

"Quickly!" Solas yelled, grabbing the girl by her arm and pulling her forward. She staggered and gripped his shirt with her other hand to keep herself from falling. Her staff fell to the ground and the Mark connected with the Rift. She was so small, the very top of her head just reached past his shoulders. She grit her teeth in pain, and he could hear her trying to conceal a scream that was starting to rise from her throat. How many times had she done that in the single day that she'd been awake? He watched in elated amazement as the Rift wavered for a moment before sealing it, with just a gesture of her hand. He let her go when he was sure she wasn't going to tumble over her own feet. She took a few steps forward, and he caught sight of three long pink scratches down her back, her skin laid bare under the shredded jacket. Did she have nothing else? Had the Seeker not thought to give her anything to keep the cold from killing her? 

The girl turned around, and Solas became well acquainted with the wakeful eyes of the child he'd condemned to a slow, painful death. He owed her the courtesy of meeting her eyes, at the very least. She looked between him and her glowing hand, which she clutched tightly in her right hand. "What did you do?" She asked, her voice small and frightened. She was shivering, her teeth rattling together. A pitiful creature who had no business being caught up in his affairs. 

He managed to smile at her, crossing his arms behind his back. "I did nothing," he said. "The credit is yours." 

" _I_ closed that thing?" She asked, eyes widening. "How?" 

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct," he said, glad that he had been correct about that at the very least. 

The Seeker sucked in a breath. “Meaning it could also close the Breach itself?!" She asked, relief and trepidation in equal amounts in her voice. 

He turned to the Seeker, trying to sound patient. "Possibly," he confirmed. He turned back to the girl who was shifting with either nervousness or cold. Perhaps it was both. "It seems you hold to key to our salvation."  

There was a gruff laugh as Master Tethras finally made himself known. Solas was somewhat surprised that he had even waited that long. "Good to know!" The Child of the Stone said. He slung the crossbow over his shoulder and joined the group. "Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” He looked up at the girl and stuck out his hand to her. She took it with gentle fingers and the two shook. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tag-along." He turned and winked at the Seeker who groaned in disgust. "And who might you be?" He asked. 

The girl pulled her hand against her chest and gripped the brutal crest stamped over her heart. He saw her process a thought incredibly quickly before lowering her hands and lacing them together in front of her. "Lillian Targaryen, but most people just call me Lilly," she said quietly. "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Tethras." 

Solas laughed softly and saw her turn to him in confusion. He gave a slightly mischievous smile. “You may reconsider that stance, in time.”  

Master Tethras, never one to back down from a quip, grinned up at him, putting his other hand on his hip. “Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Solas.”

The Seeker stepped forward and was already shaking her head.  “Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”

Master Tethras snorted and leveled her with a rather serious look. “Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

The Seeker simply made another disgusted grunt, because she knew that Master Tethras was right. They really did need all the help they could get. Solas stepped up beside the girl. He caught her looking up at his ears for just a second, before lowering her eyes back down to his chest. He understood the curiosity. It was entirely possible that was the first time she'd ever seen an elf before. But she seemed like a well off young woman, surly she had servants, and it tended to be that the People had become nothing more than  _servants_ to human nobles. That or wild savages. But he decided to forgive her for staring, as no disgust flickered across her expressive face, only harmless curiosity.

He dipped his head to her for a moment, before straightening his back. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you awake and about.” Which had honestly been somewhat of a surprise. He was sure that she would have died, his Mark completely consuming her life force. She'd practically been knocking on death's door that very morning.  

"He means he kept the Mark from...," Master Tethras paused and took in the disheveled appearance of the young girl. Like a drowned kitten, covered in her own blood, as well as whatever foul creatures she'd had to fight while journeying up to them. "He kept the Mark from getting worse while you were sleeping."    

She looked up at Solas with wide green eyes, and Solas felt something twist in his gut. She startled him, bowing low, her back parallel with the ground for a few seconds, before she straightened back up. "Thank you," she said, her eyes brimming with gratitude. "Um...you seem to know a lot about this thing," she said, gesturing to her Marked hand. 

"Like you, Solas is an Apostate," The Seeker explained. 

The girls face scrunched up in confusion. "Apostate?" She asked, her head cocking to the side, reminding Solas once more of a small, young, animal. 

"Yes," Solas answered quickly. "I was not trained in the Circle of Magi. Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra. My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage." 

"What's the circle of Magi?" She asked, looking up at Solas. 

The three adults paused, wondering if she was being serious. But Solas could see it on her face that she was. Cassandra had stated earlier that she believed the young woman was foreign to Thedas, and it seemed that was true. The Fade could have pulled her in through a Rift. It could be possible. Solas had no idea how the Breach was affecting the rest of the world. "Perhaps we can save this conversation for another time," he suggested. "In the meantime, we must focus on the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.”  Solas stepped closer to the Seeker. “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.” 

The Seeker nodded, placing a hand on her sword. "Understood. We must get to the forward camp." 

"Yes," Solas agreed. "We must move quickly." 

For this girl did not have much time to waste. 

* * *

Lilly's shoes kept slipping on the ice and she found herself grabbing onto the nearest arm or rock so she wouldn't fall and eat it. Every time she grabbed someone, she would quickly let go, and apologize. But they'd always reassure her that she wasn't causing any trouble. She tried to keep her arms as close to her side as she possibly could. Her Mark would flare up every thirty seconds and she tried not to allow anyone else to see it, but she'd see the three adults occasionally turning around and looking at her with worry. 

As they walked, they stumbled into another group of demons, and the adults pushed her to the back of the group, near Varric who spent most of the battle in one spot, firing crossbow bolts. Once, a wisp tried to throw a burning ball of energy, and Lilly screamed when a bright blue barrier sprung up around her, absorbing any damage that she would have taken. She looked over towards the Elven man, but he was already throwing magic back towards the wisp. The battle was over relatively quickly, and none of them had been injured, so they kept walking up the side of the mountain. 

Varric stood next to her, looking up at her, and grinning when he caught her attention. The story teller observed. "So, I take it you're from the Free Marches?" He suggested, raising a thick eyebrow. 

"The Free Marches?" Lilly asked, looking at him strangely. "Where's that?" 

Varric looked momentarily surprised before a laugh rolled deep within his chest. "Alright, so where are you from?" 

 _'Is it...Westeros?'_ She wondered, twitching her nose.  _'No...it's called...King's Landing? Which is the_ Capital _of Westeros'_ The same thought crossed her mind when she was asked. It was something that felt disconnected, and yet felt so right to her. "I'm from King's Landing," she told Varric, who gave her a similarly confused expression, but covered it up quickly. "At least, that's where I think I'm from." 

Solas turned his head. "You are not positive?" He asked. 

"I'm like...99 percent sure that's where I'm from. Or was it...Valyaria? That sounds right too. Or was it Dorn? Maybe it was Chicago?" She hummed and rubbed her thumb against her chin. "Truth be told, I'm having a lot of trouble remembering things. Everything is just...fuzzy." 

'Shit, kid," Varric grunted. 

Lilly shrugged. "Well...what can I do about it? I need to just try focusing on the Breach for now. One thing at a time, right?" 

They kept walking until there was another powerful burst of energy from Lilly's Mark. She yelped and leaned against a half destroyed wall. 

Cassandra rushed over to her, placing a strong hand on her back. "Hurry," she said, pulling Lilly away from the wall, and helping her back on the trail. "We don't have much longer to go." 

They walked for another ten minutes before anyone felt the need to say anything. "So..." Varric said, walking to her side, once more. " _Are_ you innocent?" Varric asked. 

"I would sure hope so," Lilly said. "But I don't remember for sure." 

Varric clicked his tongue. "That’ll get you every time. Should have spun a story.”

Cassandra gave him a dirty look. “That’s what  _you_  would have done,” she shot at him. 

Varric simply smirked at her. “It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution.”

* * *

One more Rift went down, and the gates were opened for them. While they walked into the forward camp, Cassandra directed Lilly towards Leliana, and a priest of some kind. They were arguing, their voices growing louder and more frustrated the closer Lilly and her party came. When they were practically standing by the table, both parties turned around. Leliana seemed relieved to see them, while the priest looked overcome with anger when his eyes landed on Lilly. Her shoulders stiffened, and she looked down at the wood of the bridge. 

"Ah, you've made it!" Leliana said when they were in speaking distance. "Chancellor Roderick, this is–”

He held his hand up, and silenced the woman, who looked at him with murder in her eyes. He rolled his head and looked down at Lilly, who was glued to Solas's sleeve.  “I know who she is." He looked at Cassandra, crossing his arms behind his back. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.” 

Lilly gasped quietly, her fingers tightening into the sleeve. She looked up at Cassandra who-to Lilly's relief-glared fiercely at the Chancellor. "Order me?!" She asked, touching her hand to her chest. "You are a glorified clerk." She poked him in the chest with her pointer finger. "A bureaucrat!” 

The Chancellor pushed her hand off of him. “And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

Cassandra looked like she was going to snap back, but Leliana held up a hand. “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know," she told him sternly. 

“Justinia is dead!" Rodrick smacked him hand down on the table, sending small figurines scattering across the map, and onto the floor. "We must elect her replacement, and obey  _her_  orders on the matter.”

"What about the Breach?!" Lilly demanded, poking her head out from her hiding spot. "Isn't that the biggest problem we have to solve right now?" 

The old man pointed an angry, wagging finger in her face.  “ _You_  brought this on us in the first place!” He snapped his head back up to Cassandra. He sighed, and crossed him arms over his chest. "Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.” He sounded so tiered. 

Cassandra shook her head, crossing her arms over his chest. "We can stop this before it’s too late.”

Roderick looked on skeptically. “How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We must go through the valley," Cassandra answered. "It’s the quickest route.”

Leliana shook her head slightly. “But not the safest. Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky," Cassandra said. 

Roderick looked at both women, frown lines etched deep into his skin. “Listen to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost.” 

The Breach made another ugly hissing sound, and Lilly slumped against Solas's side, groaning quietly. Her Mark flicked erratically, casting them all in the sickly green light. Cassandra walked over to Lilly and faced her seriously. "Which way do you think we should go?" She asked. 

"You're really asking my opinion?" Lilly asked, looking at Cassandra with a raised eyebrow. "A few hours ago you were dragging me here in chains." 

She could see that Cassandra slightly disapproved. The intimidating woman crossed her arms over her chest. "You have the Mark, and you are the one we need to get to the Breach in one piece." She gestured to Leliana. "And since we cannot agree on our own..." 

She thought for a moment, turning her head up toward the mountains. "We should take the mountain path." 

Cassandra nodded once, and turned back to the red-headed woman. "Leliana. Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone.” 

Rodrick turned to her, anger and fear burning in equal amounts in his eyes. His hands were balled into fists, and he tucked them behind his back.  “On your head be the consequences, Seeker," he spat venomously. 

* * *

They finally reached the ladders that would take them to the mining tunnels and quickly towards the temple. Lilly tried her best not to look down while she climbed, one foot after the other, hand over hand. She could feel the ice, biting into her bare skin of her freezing hands. It felt like little needles cutting into her. She was the last on the ladder, following after Varric, who kept looking down at her. Every time he looked at her, she smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. 

When they finally got to the top, she needed help to hoist herself over the edge of the platform. She quickly stood up, almost falling back over the edge, if it wasn't for Solas's quick actions, grabbing her by the sweater and pulling her forward, and away from the edge. She thanked him quietly and he shook his head with an exasperated sigh, but didn't seem to be angry with her. Simply telling her to 'be more careful.' 

"There's the tunnel," Cassandra said, pointing it out. "The path to the temple lies just beyond it.”

“What manner of tunnel is this? A mine?” Solas asked. 

"Yes," Cassandra said over her shoulder, walking towards the entrance. “Part of an old mining complex. These mountains are full of such paths.”

“And your missing soldiers are in there somewhere?” Varric asked. 

“Along with whatever has detained them," Solas said seriously. 

"We shall see soon enough," Cassandra said, waving a hand for them to follow.

Immediately inside the tunnel, Cassandra had to duck out of the way of a green ball of energy. She pulled her sword out of the sheath and rushed inside. Solas raised his hand, and a green barrier sprung up around Cassandra. Varric had taken cover behind a rock, and was firing crossbow bolts at the demons, cursing quietly while he did. Solas was throwing ice spells from his staff, managing to freeze one of the larger demons in place so that Cassandra could chop it in half.  _In half!_ Lilly stood next to Solas, feeling totally useless while they fought. It was over quickly, and they continued through the chambers of the old mine. 

When they emerged into the sunlight once more, the group saw bodies laying twisted and mangled on the stone steps. Their blood painted both the stones and the snow bright crimson. Lilly took a shocked step backwards, backing up into Solas, who gently grabbed her shoulders, keeping her steady and on her feet. 

Varric sighed and looked up at Cassandra. "Guess we found the soldiers," he said. 

Cassandra was already shaking her head. "That cannot be all of them.” She looked around, stepping over the fallen bodies. "No, it definitely isn't." 

“So the others could be holed up ahead?” Varric asked. 

“Our priority must be the Breach," Solas reminded everyone. "Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe.”

Varric snorted. "Well I'm leaving that to our firefly, here." He gestured with his thumb towards Lilly, who was trying her very hardest not to vomit all over the dead people. 

"Come along," Solas said, gently pressing his hand between Lilly's shoulder blades, and back onto the trail. She kept looking back, but Solas was unrelenting in his guidance. When they got to the end of the snowy pathway, they all saw a Rift glowing dangerously. Which, perhaps, explained what had happened to the other three scouts who had laid dead by the stairs. 

A woman, directing her troops, was fighting against the demons. Cassandra unsheathed her sword and once more rushed into the fray with Solas's barrier keeping her safe. Lilly curled her fist around her staff, trying to summon the energy she had felt earlier pouring from her. But nothing was happening. The same feeling of uselessness swarmed her heart. Other people were risking their lives while she just stood there like a sack of potatoes. She dropped her staff to the ground, and Solas opened his mouth, but she didn't stop to listen. 

She ran into the fight, and right under the Rift. If she closed the Rift, then there wouldn't be any more demons. She lifted her hand and felt the energies of the Fade connecting through her. Her hand twitched, and she grabbed her wrist, keeping herself steady. She heard a shout from her right side and turned, just in time to see a wisp launching one of those balls of energy at her. It caught her in on the hip, and sent her falling to the hard ground, rolling over a few times. She struggled to get to her hands and knees, coughing violently. When she managed to get to her knees, she almost fell back over, the pain radiating down her entire leg. It wasn't broken, she was sure of that, but it was so unbelievably painful. 

She grabbed onto a wall and pulled herself up, resting on her uninjured side. She raised her hand again, aiming it towards the Rift. It only took a few seconds before it closed, dragging the demons back into the Fade. Lilly let out a gasp of relief, and almost fell back into the snow, but resisted. If she sat down now, she wasn't sure she'd be able to get back up. Solas walked over to her, looking very disapproving. But he sighed and nodded to her. "Sealed, as before," he said. "You are becoming quite proficient at this."  

"Let's hope it works on the big one," Varric said, making his way over. "You good, kid?" He asked. 

"Peachy keen, Varric," she said through gritted teeth. She hissed quietly and touched her hip, trying to keep everything together. 

"You saved us," the leader of the scouts said to Cassandra. “Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra. I don’t think we could have held out much longer.”

Cassandra pointed towards Lilly.  “Thank our prisoner, Lieutenant. She insisted we come this way.”

The Lieutenant looked over with wide eyes. "The prisoner? Then you..." 

"All in a days work," Lilly said, trying to force a smile. "I'm glad you're all right." 

Cassandra's face was still stern, but much less harsh when she looked at the beaten down scouts. “The way into the valley behind us is clear for the moment. Go, while you still can.”

"At once," the woman said with a salute. 

"Allow me to heal you," Solas said, looking down at Lilly who nodded quickly. He placed a green glowing hand against her hip and blew out air through his nose. It was a quick fix with magic, apparently. When he was finished, he stood to his full height. "Please be more careful in the future." 


	3. Act I: The Pool of Tears

Varric had seen a lot of awful shit in his lifetime. Seeing the kid head obediently to her death, while maybe not the worst, was for sure  _up there_ on the awful scale. Her Mark had connected to the first Rift, like all the others. But she had managed to stop the Breach from growing any further. Then she immediately collapsed. He'd been close enough to see her fall backwards, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her matted, blood soaked, hair sticking to her cheeks. She laid on the ground, surrounded by the charred corpses of everyone else who had died at the Temple. A poetic ending, to be sure. A hero's death. The last survivor of the Temple, falling dead with all the rest. Except, she  _wasn't_ dead. Very nearly so, but still drawing breath. 

The Seeker had pushed over anyone who stood in her way from dropping down to the kid's side. She pressed her fingers against the girl's neck and almost choked of her relief. She gathered the girl up into her arms and rushed away, Chuckles following as closely behind as he could manage. Varric tried to follow them, but figured he could just ask Chuckles what had happened when he got back to Haven. 

The Nightingale casually walked over to him and looked slightly curious. "Are you not planning to leave, Varric?" She asked him. "Cassandra said you were free to go."

Varric put his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "Nah," he said casually. "I figure, I might as well stick around and see how this all plays out." He shrugged at her. He could see the ideas that were running through her head and thought he should elaborate before she decided to shank him. "I like to think I'm as selfish as the next guy. But...this is too much for me to just sit back and do nothing." He raised an eyebrow at her. She looked at him for a few more seconds before nodding and continuing on her way. Varric tired not to let his obvious relief show. He'd much rather not deal with the Nightingale if he didn't have too.   

Haven was all in a buzz when he got back. There were people rushing around like headless chickens. By the night's end, he heard the same thing coming from several mouths. 'The Herald of Andraste.' That's what they were starting to call the kid. All the inhabitants of the little village had seen that she had stopped the heavens from completely ripping open, and now they were placing all their expectations and hopes on the kid's shoulders. Varric had seen this too, he hoped the weight of it all didn't crush her.  

Flissa didn't have any rooms left to rent out, so Varric set up a tent by a fire pit. He managed to watch the people passing by, most of the conversation on their lips was about the girl. Varric had written enough tragedies, he knew exactly where this was heading. It was closer to dawn when he caught sight of Chuckles and Adan leaving the kid's cabin, both looking drop dead exhausted.

Varric pushed himself away from the fire and walked over to Chuckles, who visibly sagged when he saw the dwarf coming. "So, how about a drink?" Varric offered, pointing towards the Tavern, that was still lit up. 

The elf looked between Varric and the warm lights of the Tavern, where people were no doubt rowdy and drunk. Chuckles rubbed his temples and nodded. "You're paying," he clarified.  

"As expected," Varric said. 

The two of them walked in silence until they passed the threshold of the Tavern. They sat in an unoccupied table towards the back. Varric made eye contact with the barkeep and raised two fingers. He honestly didn't give a shit what they brought over. And he got the feeling, looking at Chuckles, that the elf felt the same. "So...," Varric said when they had their drinks. "What's it looking like?" He asked. 

Chuckles sighed deeply. "Well, the Mark has stopped consuming her, sealing that Rift almost killed her. After a thorough shakedown from the Seeker, I was able to theorize that if we managed to power up the Mark, a second attempt would seal the Breach. But..." 

"It might kill her for real this time?" Varric finished for Chuckles who nodded seriously. "Shit." 

"I am not sure when-or even if-she'll wake up. For now, she sleeps." 

* * *

 

The answer to when, was three days. It was one early morning that Varric saw a small servant girl rushing from the cabin, telling everyone that she saw that the Herald had finally woken up. The people of Haven gathered around her cabin, some praying, some crying, some standing stoically watch the survivor emerge into the sunlight. Most people talked about how she seemed to just  _glow_ with  _divine glory._ But all Varric could see were the bags under her eyes, and the pallid gray of her face. She hugged herself while she walked, keeping her head low. No one approached her while she walked to the Chantry. When she disappeared behind the large doors, the crowed dispersed and went back to whatever they were doing before. 

The kid came out of the Chantry a few hours later. Looking a little less pale, but  _no less_ exhausted. She stood with Josephine and Leliana at the top of the stairs, while Cassandra and Cullen helped round up the rest of the village for an announcement. Cassandra took to the stage first and Varric sighed, knowing that they were all in for a  _very_ inspirational speech. 

"One week ago, our world was forever changed. Two years before  _that,_ our world was changed again by war. The Divine had hopped to put an end to that war and bring peace back to Thedas. Before her death, Most Holy left us with a directive, intending to reinstate the Inquisition of old, to construct that order. While the situation has changed, the goal has not. Creating a world where all peoples live in peace. With the aid of Andraste's Herald, we will seal the Breach and stop the destruction that looms above our heads!" 

The crowed ate her up.  _Obviously._ Varric shook his head and wandered away from the throngs of people and returned to his tent, sitting on his stump. He had letters to write. But he knew his correspondences would all be monitored one way or the other with the Nightingale hanging around. The hypocrite. Acting like she wasn't doing the exact same thing to protect the Warden. So maybe she wouldn't be too hard on him....he  _hoped._

It was later in the afternoon that Varric received a visitor. She looked different, not covered in blood and other nasty shit. It must have been cut to get out all the knots. Now it reached the middle of her neck and she kept running her fingers through it. Her skin was cleaner, but still far to gray around the gills for Varric to say she looked  _better._ Not to mention she looked very uncomfortable in the [dress](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/AZZrQvyBGgK7-tEViNP9rKcysN1KcRSbhRmxIMtRqhlwOtXCLoq7PHE/) that someone had stuffed her in. She pulled her black cloak tighter around her body, and Varric saw that her family crest had been sewn onto it, over her heart. 

"And she has awoken," Varric said, holding his arms out wide. Trying humor to put the kid at ease. "What can this old dwarf do for you, kiddo?" He asked.

"I...I'm very hungry," she said, putting a hand against her stomach. He could practically hear it from where he was standing. "But I'm not actually sure where I can get food." 

"You've come to the right place!" Varric winked at her. "We can go get some of Flissa's famous stew in the Singing Maiden, if you'd like." He gestured with his thumb towards the Tavern. She chewed on her bottom lip and looked at the people standing around with worry. Varric hummed. "Or...let's see what we can get in the kitchens of Haven?" He suggested. "I doubt anyone will be down there at the moment." 

She smiled and nodded. "I'd like that," she said quietly. 

"Alright, follow me, kiddo." He gestured with his head towards the Chantry. 

* * *

 

Leliana carefully read over the report, leaning her chin resting against the tips of her fingers. She tapped on her lips and narrowed her eyes. It'd been three days, and still...

_Sister Nightingale,_

_M has found not a whisper of the name Targaryen. Nor anyplace Westeros, Dorn, Valaryia, or Chicago. Not even the feelers up in Tevinter were able to reap any results. And for that matter, none of us have been able to find_   _any thing_ _resembling the house crest you showed up._ _We are asking for further orders. In my years of experience, as it seems we have hit a dead end._

_-J_

Liliana read it over one more time, before throwing it into the fire that warmed her tent. When she looked up, she caught sight of the Herald, being led by Varric into the Chantry. She wasn't a particularly surefooted girl. She stumbled over almost every rock her shoe touched. Cassandra had said she'd been much the same on the trail to the Breach. She was also as nervous as a rabbit. When Leliana had asked about her past, she hadn't even thought to lie. Her amnesia was a bit problematic, but everything else that she managed to remember was the truth. Or the girl thought she was telling the truth anyways. 

Cassandra continued to insist that she was from beyond the sea somewhere. And it seemed, that was entirely possible. Which meant that there were Rifts somewhere they weren't able to easily reach. Leliana wondered if her curiosity was enough of a reason to arrange an expedition to someplace somewhere that may or may not even actually exist. Yes...she decided. It was  _very_ worth it. The more she knew about the girl, the better. And what harm would there be in learning what else the world had to offer? It was about time that someone decided to see what was waiting for them. 

She grabbed a blank piece of parchment and quickly wrote to her agents. 

_Travel west, as far west as you can. Until you reach lands undiscovered. Search for the name Targaryen there. Avoid Qunari territories._

- _Nightingale_   

 She opened the cage of a raven and tied the note into a small scroll, placing it in the small holster the bird had on it's foot. She released it into the sky and watched it become a dot in the sky. Content, she returned to her tent. And the unending stack of messages she had to pick through. By the time she was finished with half of it, it was already dark. The torches were being lit, and the soldiers were finally starting to go back to their lodgings. Be it with family, or in the tents. Sometimes, Leliana worried that Cullen worked them all too hard. If they were too tiered, then they were too tiered to fight. If they were attacked by whoever destroyed the temple, Leliana wasn't sure they would be ready. And that was unacceptable. 

She heard laughter and curiously peeked her head out. The Herald was finally emerging from the Chantry with the dwarf. She should be heading to bed. Should have been asleep  _hours_ ago. She was still just a child. Leliana would need to speak to Varric about allowing her to stay up to late. Or Leliana could simply make sure the next meeting would be at dawn. Perhaps the girl would get the message when she was so tiered. A bit of responsibility should be expected by the 'people's champion.' 

Maybe she was being a little harsh. The Herald was young, and had been through an ordeal that would traumatize even the most hardened of veterans. If Varric could get her to laugh, then it was a good thing. But still...it was almost the eleventh bell. Leliana drummed her fingers against her desk and hummed. She would let the girl sleep in the morning, after she exhausted her a bit more. She pushed herself from her chair and walked into the cold air. 

"Lady Herald," she called, her voice carrying across the courtyard and into the ears of her targets. They both froze and turned around. Varric looked worried and the girl was picking at her fingers. "Might I have a few minutes of your time?" She asked with a smile. But it was very obvious to everyone involved that it was  _not_ a request.  

She bid goodnight to the dwarf and made her way over to Leliana, looking down at the ground. She did not do her crest justice. The meek child nothing like the roaring dragons ready to devour whatever lay in their paths. She slipped on a bit of ice, and quickly reached out and grabbed onto a flag pole to keep herself upright. When she was standing in front of Leliana she looked up and smiled shyly. "Yes, ma'am?" 

What a polite little thing. Leliana stepped to the side and allowed the girl to enter and sit down in a spare chair. 

* * *

It was very late by the time Lilly made it to her cabin. The first thing she did was lock her door, making sure that the latch was secure. She slowly removed her cloak, hanging it up on the hook that was by her bed. The boots were next. She laid them neatly at the foot of her bed next to her black vans. Her dress was next. She slipped it off of her body and stuffed it into the chest by the wooden table. She was in a white under dress thing. A serving girl had helped her get dressed that morning. She'd said that the night dress was meant to go under the clothes when you wore a dress. When she wore pants, she would get small cloths. 

Lilly sat down in front of the fire, grabbing a soft pillow and held it to her chest. She took a deep breath and held the pillow over her face. She screamed as loud as she could. Throwing her body down onto the floor, so she was further muffled by the wood under her. She kicked and screamed for a solid minute before she had to come up for air. Her face was covered in tears and snot while she sobbed. She cried so hard, she thought she was going to be sick. She drew in air like it was going to disappear. She curled up into a ball on her side and grabbed her stomach. Trying to keep herself from heaving. 

She'd woken up that morning, and almost immediately wished she had died trying to seal the Breach. She couldn't remember much of  _anything_ about who she was, but the things she could remember just left her more confused. But her family,  _that_ was something she remembered with almost perfect clarity. Her sweet mother, red hair and green eyes. Full of passion. Her dad, who had loved her long hair. She and her siblings were their pride and joy. Her younger brother, annoying and too smart for his own good. Her older sister, who'd had a baby when she was Lilly's age. Her nephew, just a chubby peach of four years. 

But she couldn't remember where they were from. Couldn't remember her home town. Even her last name was  _questionable._ Who was she then? If she couldn't remember anything else? Could she even say with any certainty that she  _was_ Lillian? Was the name her dad proudly said he'd given her just a fake? False? Why was this happening to her?  _How_ had this even happened? This should be  _impossible!_ She knew that much at the very least. Yet there she was with a Mark on her hand that at best felt like pins and needles and at the worst felt like she was on  _fire._

Her hair! They'd cut her hair! It had taken her all her fourteen years of life to grow it out to the middle of her back and it was gone! They hadn't even asked her if it was okay! They'd just done it! Her dad would be so sad! He loved braiding it every day. She grabbed her hair in her fists and closed her eyes tightly. the sobs consuming her entire being.  

She pulled her hands away when she felt a spark run through her finger tips. Yeah!  _That_ was another issue. She was apparently a  _mage_ in a world where being a  _mage_ meant she could be  _possessed_ by  _demons._ How the heck was she supposed to live like this? Every step she took, she felt like was going to be her last. There was danger waiting around every corner. Demons, monsters, mages, assassins-who had already tried to slit her throat apparently-were waiting to strike her down the second they got the chance.

Now, she was being held up as the chosen hero to some  _god_ she'd never heard of. The Maker, Andraste, or whatever the heck they were called. Her Jewish grandma would be so mad at her if she knew. If she was alive to disapprove. She'd beat Lilly with that old willow branch she kept on her window.   

She was alone there. As often as Varric insisted that she wasn't over their dinner, he was wrong. She. Was. Alone. There was no one anywhere who could possibly understand what she was going through. And how could they? What had happened to her was  _not possible!_ She was separated from everything she had ever known.  

She rubbed the heals of her palms into her eyes and whimpered quietly, finally managing to get her body under control. She pulled herself up from the ground, grabbing the tear stained pillow and walking back to her bed. She slumped over. She tucked herself under the cover and curled back up into a ball. She closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep. No longer having any energy to do anything other than laying there like a sack of flour. She was shaking, trembling like a small leaf. But she wasn't sure if that was because of the cold, or the raw emotional pain she was feeling.  


	4. Act I:  A Caucus-Race

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on my phone at work. If there are errors, I will correct them later tonight.

Josephine actually thought that the young Herald of Andraste was quite charming. She had a sweet smile and a polite disposition. An easy personality to present to the nobility, when the Inquisition would need their aid. There was only one problem. The Herald was a mage and that made certain people... _uncomfortable._ She was an unknown, untrained, apostate. But Josephine was never one to sit on problems. She planned ahead, and adapted to the situation. That unknown factor could be done away with, if she could just have the girl sit down for tea with a few particular people. The untrained...also easily fixable. 

She'd never had a one on one discussion with the elven mage who had lent them his expertise during the crisis. Solas, that was what she'd heard he was called. Or what he called  _himself,_ as there was no real way to identify who he was. He was a formal man, stiff in his speech. Josephine had invited him to her office for lunch. He had  _impeccable_ table manners for a man who'd lived in the woods. 

Josephine didn't like to discuss business while she was eating, but she could tell that he was starting to get antsy. "I'm sure you must have noticed the Herald's magic is a point of contention among many circles as of late." 

"And yet, I see no reason why," he said, lightly drumming his fingers against her desk, ignoring his finger foods and tea. "She is a mage, that cannot change, no matter how much they argue. These are gifts that she was born with, regardless of their opinions." 

"Of course, I agree," Josephine said, meaning to pacify the slight edge to his voice she could hear. "Now, we have no desire to change the Herald. But there are people who find her lacking experience in structured magic...uncomfortable." 

"Is there a question there, lady ambassador?"  

Josephine smiled at the man. He was quick. She respected that. "The Herald needs training.  _Intensive_ training. You are one of her traveling companions. Should you agree to tutor the Herald in the magical arts...there would be compensation in it for you." 

He smirked at her, and leaned back in the chair. "Why my lady...it would be an  _honor."_

* * *

She had  _another_ meeting early in the morning. She sat slumped in her chair while a woman brushed her hair and helped her get dressed. This dress was fitted with a leather corset. Lilly struggled to breath for a few minutes, while the serving girl pulled on the strings as hard as she could.  "Where did all of these even come from?" Lilly asked when the torture was finished. 

The serving girl smiled at her. "Lady Josephine is lending you a few of hers. You're mostly the same measurements. Except in the bust and around the waste. It took a little fixin' but they seem to fit you just fine." 

"Right..." She grabbed her cloak, already wrapping it around her shoulders. Haven was an unforgivably cold wasteland. She stopped in front of the door and looked behind her, where the woman was gathering up her dishes from breakfast. "Um...I realized I never actually asked for your name." 

"It's Ella, m'lady," the elven woman said softly. 

"A pleasure then, Ella." With a final nod of her head, Lilly ventured out into the snow. There was a fresh layer that had fallen during the night, and it now went to about her ankles. She hadn't even heard the wind blowing the night before. She sighed and pulled her cloak up in a bunch above the snowy ground. It was going to be a huge pain in the ass to dry off. She shook the snow off it and continued towards the main steps of Haven.  

One of Liliana's scouts was there to escort her to the Chantry. It had been the same man for the past three days since she'd woken up. His name was Jim, or something like that. James, maybe? When he saw her, he straightened up, giving her a polite salute. "Herald," he greeted. He followed behind her after she gave him a quick wave. She knew the way through the village like the back of her hand at that point. Not that it had been especially difficult to memorize the small village. 

She met the others in the war room and took her place next to Lady Josephine, who gave her a cheerful good morning. "Have you been preparing for your journey into the Hinterlands, lady Herald?" Josephine asked when everyone was settled.  

"Yes, I've made sure that I had everything that Lady Cassandra suggested I bring," Lilly answered. "I've also asked Solas and Varric to join us. We'll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning." 

"Fantastic, the quicker that we manage to bring aid to the people there the better. And, do not forget to speak with Mother Giselle." 

"I won't. That's the whole point of the mission, right?" 

The other advisers arrived and they all stood around the war table discussing who should do what, where agents should go. They'd received a letter from a Dalish clan, asking after one of their kinsmen who had traveled to the conclave, but hadn't actually arrived there yet. Lilly thought that would be something best handled by Josephine. There was another inquiry from a noble family, the Trevelyans, about the fate of their youngest son. That one was much easier answered. Dead, like all the rest. 

"Survivors guilt," Cullen had said to her, out of the blue when they were looking through hundreds of documents from families wishing,  _praying,_ that their sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers had lived. Not a single answer thus far had been a yes. She'd looked up at him curiously and he put a hand on her shoulder. "It's not _your fault,_ that you lived," he explained. "All you can do, is use the gift of life you've been granted." 

She sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Yes...thank you Commander."  

They continued the meeting, and Lilly thought she was finally free, until Josephine gently took her by the arm and pulled her back from her escape. "Forgive me, lady Herald, but there is a meeting that I can't put off any longer." She almost looked regretful. She gently guided Lilly from the room and into her office. 

* * *

 

An hour later, Lilly sat in front of a nobleman who looked at her as if she were a very curious looking bug. He hummed, first thing when he saw her. His black and silver mask obscuring his face from her view, which hardly seemed fair, considering. Lilly put her hands in her lap, as Lady Josephine had instructed her too. It was  _polite,_ she'd been told. Lilly inclined her head, and gave the man a bored, even, stare. She tried to give nothing away, but she was sure the dark circles under her eyes at the least betrayed she was fucking  _exhausted._  

"So..." The man started, taking a sip of the snowberry tea that had brewed for their meeting. "You are the child that is being hailed as the champion of our most holy lady." 

"I suppose," she answered. 

"So you agree with them?" He asked. 

"I don't. I believe that my mark is what the world needs at this moment." She shrugged. "They say the mark is divine, and maybe their right, but I believe a bit more in random chance than blessings from above." She drank her own tea. 

"Your ambassador has asked me to lend part of my private forces to help the Inquisition," he said, and Lilly pretended not to be surprised. "The Inquisition and its  _Herald._ How could you expect me to deliver those forces if the Herald doesn't even believe in their cause?" 

"I believe in the cause of saving the world," Lilly supplied. "At the temple...I stood in the face of the charred corpses of those we lost. As well as a pride demon. Yet I still held my head high and tried to close the Breach, almost loosing my life in the process. Is that not dedication to the cause of peace?" She looked at him critically. "And yes, it is a lot to ask for men to lay down their lives for this organization, but there comes a time when everyone must decide. The time has come for you to decide, Monsieur. Are you a mouse, or are you a man?" 

He scoffed, and covered his mouth with a gloved hand, chuckling loudly enough to be impolite. He pushed his mask up and wiped a tear from under his eye. He sat back in his chair, finishing the last of his chair. "I will lend you thirty men." he said. "Not a single man more." He stood and waved at her over his shoulder before disappearing into the hallway. Was that...a victory? She couldn't tell. 

Lady Josephine seemed pleased, and so did Leliana. So... _yes_ then.  

* * *

 

She didn't like Solas' teaching style very much. She looked up at him through hooded lids, listening to his drone on about  _something._ She realized that she had stopped listening, and tried her hardest to zero back in on what he was saying. God he loved the sound of his own voice. Was she being rude? 

He stopped talking and raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips, lips pressed together. "Well...?" 

 _Shoot!_ He'd asked her a question. Her eyes widened and she opened and closed her mouth several times. She eventually just gave him a bashful smile and he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. Bald. 

"I'll start over, then," he said, and Lilly couldn't quite keep herself from groaning. "What comes up must come down, so to speak. The same applies to magic. What you push into the world, has a habit of coming back. In the form of mana burn. When one uses enough magic, the energy comes back around, and sometimes causes more harm than good. You must be careful, when you cast spells, that you focus of the energy used. Should you find yourself strained, be sure there is someone nearby. When in a fight an opponent won't give you time to recharge, so always be weary. So I'll ask you once more. What is the energy used to cast a spell?" 

"Mana," Lilly answered. 

"Very good," he praised, lips twitching up. "Now! Moving on. One way a young mage like you can gather mana when in short supply, is by meditating and drawing from the Fade. Imagine yourself as a single drop of water, and will yourself to become one with the roaring river that brings all living things together. Focus inwards, instead of outwards." He paused a moment. "Now try gathering nature's ambiant energy into yourself through meditation." He stepped behind her. "May I touch your shoulder for this demonstraion?" He asked.

She blinked at him and nodded. "Yeah, sure, go for it." 

He placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. She closed her eyes as he instructed, and took a deep breath. She could feel the air buzzing around her. Not like bees, but more like lightning bugs. It felt warm. Welcoming. Like an old friend was welcoming her home, and everything suddenly felt right. Everything before that had all just been some type of cheap imitation of life. It almost brought tears to her eyes, and she allowed the energy to flow through her. 

She felt Solas remove his hand from her shoulder and the feeling of rightness suddenly vanished. The tears fell in full force and she covered her face with her hands, leaning over in the snow. 

Solas seemed alarmed, rushing to kneel in front of her, staff abandoned in the snow. "Are you hurt?" He asked. 

"No!" She sniffles and wiped her face. "It's...gone," she whispered, before breaking back down into tears. 

"What's gone?" He asked with a gentle tone. She didn't answer him at first, so he repeated the question several times. 

"Life..." She looked away from him. 

He hummed, rubbing his chin. "I can teach you, how to find that again. Through concentration and meditation I can teach you how to push your spirit through the Veil."

"Realy?" She asked, wiping her eyes and he nodded, smiling pleasantly. 

* * *

 

They were venturing out into the world. While he other companions must have seen every corner, Lilly hadn't seen anything beyond the Frostbacks. The Inquisition was short on horses, so she agreed to ride with Cassandra. Solas and Varric, however did get their own horses. 

She was sitting up front, twisting her neck left and right to catch sight of everything new. She'd even seen a strange (and very cute) rat like mole with long ears scampering about. She'd wanted to hop off the horse to make friends with it, but Cassandra had very firmly denied her that joy. 

Varric was telling them stories while they traveled, about a friend of his named Garret Hawk and his wild misadventures with his motley crew. Her favorite was Fenris, through she was sure he wouldn't like her very much considering how he felt about mages. 


	5. Act I: Advice From A Caterpillar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Hope you enjoyed!

Solas spent most of his time watching others. But lately, he'd been paying closer attention to the Mark, and the child attached to it. Their first lesson had been... _enlightening._ He would have never imagined a human could be as sensitive as she had been. Could feel what once was through him. He was curious, could he teach a  _shemlin_ to navigate through the Fade in the way the People had, so many years ago? As _he_ still did. 

The way she'd wept, he thought he must have overloaded her senses. But her eyes had been clear, obviously intelligent. And he could feel her trying to reach back towards the thread he'd attached to her. It must be the Mark. Surly this girl, this tiny, insignificant little creature would never be able to reach the enlightenment that his people knew. That wasn't a possibility. But even as he looked at her, gazing in amazement over The Seeker's shoulder, he could feel a light within her. And frustratingly enough he could sense that it wasn't emanating from his Mark. But from within her own spirit. 

"Solas?" He heard, a small voice being carried towards him. He looked over, startled. The child raised an eyebrow at him. "Well? Are there?" 

He blinked. What had they been taking about? Stories, culture, music. Was she asking for a tale about elves? Yes, she must have been. "Well yes," he answered. "There are several tales of the ancient elves," he supplied unhelpfully. He pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling when he saw the blank look she gave him. He cast his eyes towards the trees. What story  _could_ he tell her? 

"Aw, kiddo, you should meet my friend Merrill, she has plenty of story," Varric said, pulling his pony closer to the Seeker and the Mark. 

"Did she tell you any?" The girl asked, her head falling to the side, her brown hair falling out of her well maintained bun that the ambassador had spent twenty minutes fixing before they'd set off. 

Varric though for a second. "You ever hear of the Dalish god Fen'Harel?" He asked, raising a mischievous eyebrow. The girl shook her head, and Solas tuned them out. Lies and poorly remembered tales held no interest to him. Though he watched her face, taking in every change. From interest, to fear, to curiosity. Yes, he supposed her did have that effect of most, but that was many years ago. Before the children in the forest had lost their way. 

It was such a shame that child was a human, he thought. She was so full of potential that was just wasted on one of her kind. If only he could get her to focus harder during their lessons, he was sure that she would be a well accomplished mage. And he'd seen her in the Fade, many times, though he was sure she was unaware that's where her dreams had been taking her. She had said, once, that she hadn't had magic before the Mark found its way onto her hand. Perhaps she was a late bloomer, not uncommon in human mages, or perhaps it had been his Mark that had granted her that gift of magic. 

He remembered the way she'd clung to him, when the Chancellor had frightened her with his venom. How she looked to him for guidance when demons had attacked them. She had a curious mind, and it seemed that  _he_ was her walking encyclopedia. He wondered why. He hadn't encouraged her to behave as such, but she had gravitated towards him all the same. Maybe it was the Mark's influence that drew her to him. Made her trust him. Which put him in a fairly advantageous position, insofar as he was concerned.

He didn't  _dislike_ the child. He found her in much the same as he did other children. Loud, uninformed, ignorant. Though she wasn't  _sticky,_ which made her must more tolerable in Solas' opinion. He might not dislike her, but he couldn't say that he liked her either. He couldn't, what could a fourteen year old girl and a man well into his ten thousandth year possibly have in common. But he did find her curious, and he saw no reason to antagonize her, when she so clearly sought after his approval.  

* * *

They had found the Inquisition camp early the next morning. Lilly held her traveling cloak tighter around her, when she caught sight of a dead body. She looked away, trying to keep her companions from noticing, but they all must have if the pitying looks were anything to go by. Varric rested a hand on her arm for a second, before gesturing for her to follow them through the gorge to the Crossroad. The could her the fighting all the way from the camp, and it grew louder with each step they took. Cassandra hid her in a bush, making sure that no part of her was visible. She pulled her legs up to her chest and clasped her hands over her ears, but the screaming still found its way through her fingers. She didn't how much time passed before Cassandra parted the foliage and helped her up. A gloved hand quickly wiped her face of the tears she hadn't even noticed on her cheeks. 

"I know this must be difficult for you, but you need to be sure that no one else sees your tears," Cassandra said. The two of them stood together for a few minutes, and Cassandra handed her a flask full of water. "Come, we should not delay this meeting any further," she said. 

The village was torn to bits by the fighting. Some people's homes were even up in flames. Lilly had to take a second when she heard a woman weeping in the streets over the body of her husband, while their home burned in front of her. Cassandra put a hand on her back and guided her away from them before Lilly had another break down. Solas and Varric were helping the civilians clean up rubble and roll dead bodies off of the road. 

Mother Giselle was an older woman with a kind face, that instantly put Lilly at ease. She stood waiting for the woman to finish convincing a solider to accept help from a mage who stood waiting, awkwardly. When the man relented, Giselle looked up and smiled when she noticed Lilly and her warrior protector. "Ah, and you must be the one they are calling The Herald of Andraste," she said.    

"Yep," Lilly said. "I guess that would be me, wouldn't it." She cleared her throat. "I was told that you wanted to speak with me, revered mother?" 

Giselle stood and gestured towards a small stone bench where they could talk in privet. "Would you join me?" She asked. And Lilly followed her, after assuring Cassandra that she was fine. The old woman sat on the bench and pat the seat next to her. "I have heard of the Chantry's denouncement of the Inquisition and you in particular. And I am also familiar with those who are behind it." 

Lilly nodded. "Yes, Josephine and Leliana have been worrying about it nearly constantly. I've been told that some of them want me executed," she said. 

Giselle hummed. "Yes, so I have heard." She stopped to watch the mage heal her patient, a slight smile flicking onto her face. "I will not lie to you, so of them are just grandstanding in hopes of become the next Divine. But some are simply terrified. There were so many good people, wiped out in an instant. Senselessly taken from us in an act of unspeakable violence." 

"Yes, what happened was a terrible tragedy," Lilly said, letting sadness enter her voice. "And it was all for nothing. The first thing the Mages and Templars did was go back to killing each other, no care who is caught in the crossfire." She looked over towards the woman, who still was sobbing, though someone had pulled her away from the burning house. "Obviously." 

"If you wish to end this chaos, then you need support," Giselle told her. "It will matter little what your Mark can do, if you are unable to win the hearts and minds of the people. Which is why it is so important that you go to the Chantry in Val Royeaux and speak to them and convince the remaining clerics that you are no demon to be feared. They have only heard frightening tales of you, give them something else to believe." 

Lilly hadn't heard any of these stories, but she was sure that was by design of Josephine. Lilly felt her lips twitch in a sad smile. "Would that even work?" 

"Because you are rumored to be an untrained Mage from an unknown land?" She asked. 

"Exactly." 

"If I thought you were incapable, I would not have suggested it." 

"Would they even listen to me?" 

"Let me put it this way. You do not need to convince all of them. You just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them, and you will receive the time you need." 

Lilly place her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. "It's good of you to do this. Thank you, revered mother." 

Giselle reached over and took one of her hands, holding it snugly. "I honestly do not know if you have been touched by fate or sent to help us, but I have hope." She smiled encouragingly. "Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call as they will no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us or destroy us." 

Lilly snorted. "No pressure," she muttered. "I never wanted this, any of this. No one should be able to hold that kind of power." 

"It is the wise woman, who has power, but does not want it," Giselle said lightly. "I will go to Haven and give sister Leliana a list of names of those in the Chantry who would be open to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can." 

When they parted ways, Lilly felt a lightness in her soul. It really did look like things were starting to look up. Someone, high up and influential, was on their side. Was willing to  _help_ them. It made her feel like the fate of the world wasn't resting on her shoulders alone. She met back up with the rest of the group and gave them the good news. 

"Is there anything else we can do, before we have to go back to Haven?" Lilly asked Cassandra. "These people need help, and I can't in good conscience leave them like this."  

"Well, let's go talk to Corporal Vale, and see what he has to say," Cassandra suggested. "He's been overseeing the protection of the refugees for the Inquisition. We can go see if there's anything we can do."

"But...," Varric stopped them. "You might want to change into something else, kiddo. I don't think that dress will be easy to move around in." 

She lifted up her skirt and looked down at it with a sigh. "He's right, but where could I possibly get clothes around here?" She asked. "These people don't even have enough for themselves, I can't ask them for stuff." 

"I might have a pair of breaches you could borrow," Cassandra said. "It'll be a bit loose, but we can fix that with a few pins." 

"Alright...thank you," Lilly smiled at her. 

* * *

 

Solas took every opportunity he could to teach. Like while they hunted. Lilly tried not to be annoyed when he corrected her stance and how she held her staff. "It's not a sword," he said, grabbing the staff and holding it still. "Stop trying to swing it like one." He demonstrated it for her, showing her  _again_ the proper way to hold the staff. 

Varric was cackling and Lilly glared at him, which just caused him to laugh louder. Lily held the staff as she was instructed, just so Solas would shut up about it. Lilly liked Solas, she really did. She respected his knowledge, and found him very insightful. He was a great conversationalist, but when he thought he was right  _damn,_ was he aggravating. 

"Eh, lighten up, kiddo," Varric slapped her on the back after Solas had to correct her again. "He's just trying to help. I'm sure he's not trying to be annoying." 

"And  _yet,"_ Lilly huffed and snapped her mouth shut, firing a bolt of lightning towards a ram. The first spell she'd ever learned. The one she'd used to kill the demon the first day she'd arrived in Thedas. Sometimes, magic flowed from her as easily as breathing. But from the  _look_ Solas gave her, she guessed she'd done it wrong somehow. And he'd be  _sure_ to tell her about it later. 

"You're shots are hitting too much around the area of impact. Narrow the field of your target," he said to her.  

"Sure," she said, blasting another ram. She felt bad for them, but the people in the Crossroads needed something to eat.

Solas gave her a nod. "Much better," he said. Lilly huffed and went to go collect the ram. She wrapped it up in the large white cloth that one of the villagers had given her. They would have scouts come and collect the rams they'd killed. Solas wandered over to her. "You magic is uncontrolled," he said. "Which isn't unexpected. You're young and inexperienced, but if you narrow the line of fire, your strikes will be much more precise. Making you more effective in a fight. You're becoming quite efficient at your basic spells, I'm sure we'll be able to move onto something more difficult soon." He gave her a polite smile. "Very well done." 

Alright. So he didn't annoy her  _all_ the time. But he pushed it a lot. He just had this air around himself sometimes that clearly told everyone around him that he was just  _better_ than them. She wouldn't ever say that to him, but she was tempted sometimes to hit him upside the head when he got that smirk on his face. 


	6. Act I: Pig and Pepper

Varric was having writer's block. The true demon of despair. He stopped, and quickly wrote that line down, quill scratching away on the margins. "All This Shit Is Weird," he said, drumming the fingers of his free hand against the desk. "It is weird..." 

> _The small Herald of Andraste was a people person, as could be seen by anyone who met her. Such a charming child, though her origins were unknown, as was her upbringing. It was the way she charmed the Iron Lady into her court. How she wrangled a Red Jenny to fight by her side. How she convinced a Qunari mercenary captain to reveal his spying to her. How she drew the Warden out of his solitary life._

Varric stopped and put down his quill. It sounded bad. It sounded  _lame._ It might have even been the worst paragraph he had ever written. But it really was hard to capture the kid in written words. He ripped the page out of his journal and threw it into the fire.

He could see her, clowning around with two of the Chargers. They seemed to mostly be humoring her, but he knew that look of begrudging fondness. It was almost the same look the Seeker gave the kid. Or when Chuckles saw her improving in her spell casting. She had the kind of unintentional charisma that every great hero in any great book did. But, Varric had written enough tragedies to know where this was likely heading. And that just didn't seem fair. 

The blond charger lifted the kid off the ground, and lovingly threw the laughing girl into a pile of snow. She disappeared, her outline formed a hole, while the other charger laughed, bending over at the waist. She popped back out, snow clinging to her messy hair. A bright grin split over her face. Her cheeks rosy red as the tip of her nose. The Chargers pulled her out of the snow, and the three of them walked into the tavern. 

Varric picked his quill up and dipped it into a bit of ink. 

>   _The Herald of Andraste was dwarfed by the powerful Iron Lady, but held her head high. A haughty expression on her face that was surly drilled into her by Ruffle's at some point. But, she still managed a polite curtsy. She straightened her back and held her hands in front of her. "Would you like to speak in private, ma'am? There is much we need to discuss." The two noble mages sized one another up, before the First Enchanter held out her arm, directing the young Herald towards the stairs._ _The two walked silently up the staircase, somehow managing to draw the eyes of every single guest in attendance. Though it was no surprise, the Marked child tended to get looks everywhere she went._

_The door closed behind them, and the Herald found herself standing in front of a stain-glassed window, looking down at the estate. She turned and smiled at Madame De Fer, trying to hide how nervous she was from the woman. "I was pleased that you invited us here, ma'am. I've been very eager to see more of Thedas for weeks now. And this estate is very beautiful."_

_The First Enchanter chuckled and gently pinched the young woman's cheek. "Well aren't you a charmer, but I'm afraid that I called you here on business. But do feel free to explore the grounds when that is concluded."_

_"Ah, thank you, ma'am. Might I inquire as to the business you speak of?"_

_"With The Divine dead and the Chantry in shambles it seems that your Inquisition must be the one to restore order and peace to the frightened people of Thedas. As I am the leader of the last loyal mages, I feel that it is only right that I lend you my assistance to that cause."_

_The Herald smiled, seeming to think it over, though there wasn't a chance in the void that she would deny the Enchanter. The Inquisition was in desperate need of allies. She placed a hand over her heart and bowed her head humbly. "And I welcome your aid, ma'am." She said, before extending her hand for a shake._

The Iron Lady had described meeting the Herald, like meeting a particularly calculating kitten. Mischievous, and with the potential for real danger when it got bigger, and learned how to use its claws. Varric could see where the connection was made, especially when he watched her play around Buttercup. Their pranks silent, stealthy, and painting a very promising picture of espionage for the young Herald. 

> _None of the Herald's companions had ever seen her quite so nervous as when she came face to face with the blond elf. But in all fairness, they had just seen the slight woman drop a nobleman with a frightening amount of accuracy. Through the mouth and out the back of the head. The Red Jenny saddled up easily to the Herald, looking her over a few times. "And...you're kind of plain, aren't you? All that talk and you're just a kid."  The Red Jenny seemed to get over her disappointment and waved her hands easily. "But it's all good innit? The important thing is that you glow. You're the Herald Thingy?" She asked._
> 
> ~~_Lillian_  ~~

Varric scratched that out. She  _hated_ being called Lillian. He shook his head. He couldn't imagine her face if she caught it even once after it was published. 

> _Lilly shrugged her shoulders and looked at the Jenny blankly. "Sure, I glow. Why not? What's happening?"_
> 
> _"No idea," the Jenny shrugged back. "I don't know this idiot from manners. My people just said that the Inquisition would want him gone."_
> 
> " _Your people?" The Herald asked. "Elves?"_
> 
> _The red Jenny snorted. "Ha! No. People,_ _people._ _" The Jenny strained her shoulders. "The name's Sera," she said, before gesturing towards a stack of crates. "That's cover, get round it."_

Meeting Buttercup might be one of the fonder memories he would have of the Inquisition. Her unpredictable personality might have put a fair few people off of her, but he thought that was what made her so charming to begin with. Speaking of...he thought he could spot her zipping over rooftops with a pair of colorful briefs in her hands. 

Varric could hear the loud laughter of Tiny from inside the tavern and grinned. The Kid spent most of her time with the Chargers in the past week, when she could escape the seemingly endless meetings. Of the twenty-five members of the Chargers, a couple of them were about the kid's age. The youngest was sixteen. But all of them all seemed content to allow the fourteen-year-old to be underfoot. Never seemed annoyed at her if she asked questions, or tried to hang out, or just chatted in general. 

> _If the Iron Lady dwarfed the young Herald, then the Iron Bull made her seem just a speck on the ground. A single one of his gigantic hangs seemed like it could wrap almost all the way around her head. Aclassi's brief introduction back in Haven had done nothing to prepare her for the real thing. But instead of seeming to be frightened, the Herald seemed purely delighted. "Wowza," she said, leaning forward on her toes, grinning up at him. "I bet you hit like a stampede of Druffalo."_
> 
> _The Bull flexed his arms, his muscles rippling like the waves that crashed against the rocky shore. "You got that right, kiddo," he said with a grin. "You must be with the Inquisition, then." He smacked her on the back, almost sending her to the ground. "Come on, let's have a seat, drinks are on their way."_
> 
> _The Herald ignored the indigent sounds of both the Seeker and the bald elven mage. She sat on a crate, resting her staff against her knees. She unruffled the skirt of her short dress and wiped off the water from her leather leggings. "That was quite impressive. I hear that you and your company are looking for work?"_
> 
> _"That I am," he said, gesturing for a young man in the Chargers uniform to bring them over two tankards. "Not before my drink, through," he said with a wink. Aclassi returned with the drinks, handing one to Bull and the other to Lilly. "I assure you remember my lieutenant, Cremisus Aclassi?"_
> 
> _"Of course," she said, inclining her head to the man, with a bashful smile. "Nice to see you again."_
> 
> _"You as well," he said politely. "Throat cutters are done, chief."_
> 
> _The Herald ignored the unpleasant conversation. It seemed that these Chargers didn't take prisoners. She took a drink from her tankard instead and choked, covering her mouth. It seemed she'd never had anything stronger than the ale Flissa sold. She coughed, laughing along with the mercenary chief. She tapped her chest a few times, before going back for a second drink. "Almost like the nerves in my throat died with the first drink," she said with a laugh._
> 
> _"Good kid," The Bull praised smacking her on the back again. "So...you've seen us fight. We're expensive, but we're worth it. And I'm sure the Inquisition can afford it."_
> 
> _Her smile was softer than it had been earlier, no playful edges, or calculations. "We welcome your help." She held out a delicate hand to the mercenary. He held her hand in his own, his own so large it was almost comical. "Welcome aboard," she said._

Varric took a break, drinking from the flask he had hidden in his shirt. It was something pretty strong, and he hummed in content. He noticed Hero making his way towards the Tavern and laughed quietly to himself. He grabbed his quill back in hand. 

> _"No?" She asked, genuinely surprised by that answer. "But we helped stop the bandits."_
> 
> _"And your help is appreciated," The Warden said. "But there are still people who need my help."_
> 
> _Lilly pressed her lips into a firm line, before rolling her eyes and turning around. "Fine," she said with a shrug._
> 
> _"Wait, fine?!" The Warden seemed just as confused. "You aren't going to try and convince me?"_
> 
> _"I mean...if you want to hide in the woods while the world literally falls apart, that's on you. I don't really see a point in arguing with you."_
> 
> _His left eye twitched. "You don't mince words, do you, girl?"_
> 
> _"Nope." She gestured towards the woods with her chin. The Herald and her party slowly started making their way down the hill when they heard the Warden calling after them. She turned around, raising an eyebrow._
> 
> _"Fine, fine! Bloody hell," he said gasping. "You're...right. I can't sit back and watch the world fall to chaos. I'll join your Inquisition."  _
> 
> _She smirked at him, crossing her arms, before offering him her right hand. "Glad to hear it, Warden Blackwall."_

The kid was an interesting person, and Varric quietly wondered if he'd ever be able to capture her in the right words. She was hard to describe, and it seemed every time he tried, he never managed to do her strangeness justice. 

* * *

Lilly thought Julian was handsome. A well cut elven boy from The Free Marches. He'd joined the Bull's Chargers a little over a year previously. His skin was a dark brown and his hair was done in long intricate braids, tied up with a crimson red hair tie. His eyes were silver-gray, and he had a crooked smile. He'd said he was about sixteen years old, and yet seemed so much more mature than any sixteen year old boy that Lilly could remember meeting. And currently he was supplying her with a fruity wine and a cake that he'd made himself. She found him very interesting. 

But their interesting conversation was interrupted by the door of the tavern opening, and a presence leaning over her shoulder. "You are late for your lesson," a smooth voice said, clearly unhappy that he had to track her down. 

Lilly turned around and glared at Solas who stood with his arms crossed like an upset mother hen. She opened her mouth to argue but knew that any excuse she could imagine would be brushed off. She turned back to Julian and smiled bashfully. "Sorry..." she said, rubbing the back of her head. "But uh...duty calls,  _I guess,"_ she said, turning back and glaring at Solas, who seemed _very_ unaffected. 

"Nah, don't worry about it," he said, he said with a smile. He had dimples, she noticed. One on each side of his face. "I'll catch you around later, yeah?" 

"For sure!" She agreed readily. She sighed  and slipped off of the chair and grabbed her staff from where she'd left it, behind the counter. She followed Solas out of the warm tavern, into the biting chill of Haven's wintry background.  

"It is not my intention to keep you from enjoying yourself," Solas said when they were in their usual training spot. " _But,_ both you and I have made a commitment to your education. I have honored that, thus far. Is it too much of me to ask you to do the same?" 

She looked down, shuffling the snow under her boots. She tried to convince herself that the wine was what made her cheeks hot, and not her embarrassment. She sighed. "No...I'm sorry," she said when the seconds seemed to drag on. "I won't be late again." 

"Very good," he said. He reached into his side bag and handed her a book. "Today, you will read this book." He looked way too mischievous for this to be a simple book, and Lilly narrowed her eyes at him. "Go on," he said, sitting down gracefully on a tree stump, crossing one leg over the other, and lacing his fingers around his knee. 

Lilly shrugged and tried to open it, but found that it was stuck, like it had been super glued. So  _that_ was how it was going to be, huh? She laid the book down onto the ground, and laid her hand on top of it. She connected with the Fade, just as Solas had taught her, and found that the book had been locked-obviously-and bound like someone had tied dozens of thick ropes around it. She looked up at Solas, who was still giving her that smug smirk. She laid both hands on top of the book and grabbed one of the spirit ropes, and tried pulling it. That didn't work, and she was rewarded with a sharp  _zap_ for her troubles. 

"Ow!" She pulled her hands away, shaking them. 

"Sometimes, force is not what will be required of your magic," Solas supplied unhelpfully. 

Lilly grabbed the ropes again, but instead of pulling, she traced the spirit ropes with her fingers, finding them tied neatly into a complicated bow. But she thought if she tried to pull, it would just shock her again. So she let her hands hover over the physical book, and tried to call to spirit ropes. They slowly-very slowly-unlooped themselves, and the book fell open in the snow. She gasped, letting her shoulders fall forward. She wiped the sweat from her brow and looked at the writing. 

"What language is this in?" She asked, when she realized that she couldn't read any of it. 

Solas' smirk widened. 

" _Seriously?"_ She asked. 

"Deciphering coded messages is a valuable skill, Herald," Solas told her, blinking innocently. 

"Do you hate me?" She asked, closing the book. "Is that why you're doing this? Because you hate me?" 

"I do not hate you," Solas said, standing. He rested a hand gently on her shoulder. "I think you are a mage of considerable potential. I believe that you are ready for challenging puzzles and spell casting. You should be proud. You've only been studying for two months, and look at how far you've come."  

Two months, huh, already? Lilly looked down, book clutched tightly in both of her hands. "Two months and I haven't made any progress towards closing the Breach." She shifted away and Solas let his arm fall. "If I was really so  _great_ that thing would be gone already." 

"Have you forgotten the Rifts you've sealed in the Hinterlands and the Storm Coast? You've been helping to stabilize the Breach, with each one closed. Do not doubt yourself because it seems as if progress is slow. You are doing the very best you can. We can all see that." 

"Well my best obviously isn't good enough," she snapped, without really meaning too. She looked up, expecting to see that she'd made her teacher angry or annoyed, but instead his frown seemed so... _guilty._ She huffed and looked back down at her boots. Neither of them said anything for awhile, the wind blowing through the trees. 

She felt Solas gently grip her chin and tilt her face up. "The Breach cannot be sealed with the Mark alone," he said. "Enchanter Fiona approached us in Orlais, and when Leliana can confirm it is safe, we can barter for the aid of the mages and you can close the Breach. You have no need to feel as if you are not good enough, because of what is outside anyone's control." He moved his hands and grabbed her shoulders. "You are  _exactly_ what we need in this situation. So don't bend your head." 

He got blurry all of a sudden and Lilly wiped her face, sniffling. She slammed her head into Solas' chest. He let out a surprised grunt, but didn't push her away, so she left herself be comforted by him. He smelled like herbs and trees. And he was  _warm._ She looked up at him, resting her chin against his sweater. "Why is this happening to me? What total asshole is responsible for this?" 

He wiped the tears off of her cheeks. "A fool, no doubt," he said. "We will find those responsible for what happened at the Conclave, and you can confront them face to face." 

"I'm going to call them a dick," she said. Solas snorted. "No I'm serious. I'm going to look them in the eye, and call them a bag of big floppy dicks. Because that's what they are." 

Solas pulled away from her, and guided her back to Haven, and to her cabin. He didn't come inside, but lingered in the doorway for a bit longer. "Take tomorrow off to rest. We'll resume your training on our way to Redcliffe the day after." 

"Alright...hey," she reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve. "Thanks...for not being weird about all of this." 

He nodded his head, before gracefully making his escape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I wrote this chapter like this because I've written meeting the companions so many times that I just wanted to do something different LOL


End file.
